I wondered how I fit within it and where I belonged. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I was between two places, where I was and where I wanted to be. An itch had started underneath my feet, and I didn’t know what it meant. I had chosen to stay. I would help Lisa through the birth of her child and then think of what I wanted to do.
The only problem was, I didn’t know what that was. What was after this? I felt stuck and not stuck at the same time, as if my body, mind and spirit all wanted different things and the only thing that I could think of doing was remain in place. I looked at Lisa and the life that she was growing within her and my life before, now and after. I had no idea where I was going. Lisa was fine with this life, but I felt like it didn’t fit me anymore. Yet, I was afraid of what would come after.
I felt damaged after Francis. It was as if by setting me free, he had taken all the confidence he had given me, too. I had felt like I could do anything but now I didn’t know how to. I was unsure of how to move forward. Francis had made a move for himself and left me behind to flounder in the dark.
I don’t know why I was having so much difficulty making space for myself without Francis. I knew that we were done and that there was no going back and nor would I want to. He hadn’t given me the respect that I had deserved. I felt lost and uncertain about where I was supposed to go and what I was supposed to do now.
It was Sophie that gave me the answer.
“You look like you need some kind of reset.” She told me.
We were at one of her dinners. Fox, Lisa, Jenn and a few others were there. We were sitting in the living room after dinner and Sophie pointed at me. “You have this look of a rabbit about your eyes, and you don’t know which direction to go in.”
“I’ve noticed it, too.” Lisa said. “I knew that you needed some space after Francis was such a dick, but it’s been a while.”
“Gods, was it that obvious?” I said. “I felt like I was hiding it pretty well.”
Lisa snorted out loud. “If you mean by hiding it that you’ve been wandering around our place looking for something you haven’t even lost, then you’re doing a good job of it.”
I felt my spirit sag within me. “I’m sorry,” I told them.
Jules, a new person to the group, took my hand in hers. “You don’t need to apologize. Fuck, when my last boyfriend and I broke up, I was a fucking mess for a year. Just because you know you’re done with the relationship doesn’t mean you’re done with the grief. That shit takes time.”
“What do I do in the meantime?” I asked the group.
“I just told you; you need a spiritual reset.” Sophie said.
“What kind of reset?” I asked, almost in a hushed whisper.
“I’ve already talked about it.” Lisa said. “We need to take you to the Kaleidoscope Festival.”
“Ugh, camping?” I said.
“It’s not as bad as all that. You’ve never camped with a bunch of pagans. Picture it, there are hundreds of us all camping at this site. There’s booze, magic and firelight.” The light in Lisa’s eyes shone and I knew that she was travelling back Kaleidoscope’s from her past. “There is magic all over the fucking place. Nothing I can say will do it justice, it’s something that you have to experience.”
“Besides, you’ve been wanting to immerse yourself in magic.” Jenn said. “Kaleidoscope is the way to do it. It’s a powerful place.”
I knew that I needed to break out of whatever funk I was in. If Kaleidoscope was the place for a spiritual reset, then I was going. Anything was better than the state I was in. I knew that it was all in my mind, that I wasn’t disposable and that there was a light inside me that desperately wanted to grow bright again.
I would nurture that weak flame until I could find the fire.
I don’t think there will ever be a last tarot deck.
I’ve come to realize that as much as I love reading tarot and delving into the different facets of myself, I love collecting new tarot decks and other tarot related creations that call to me. With each one I find, be it a deck of Tarot, Oracle, Kiper or Lenormand cards, it’s like I’m finding a part of myself.
Tarot has become a part of how I breathe and that breath changes focus over time. There are times when I feel like I need strong guidance and wise counsel and other times when I need a soft and gentle hand to guide my way. I always find myself going to different decks for different situations. I’ve tried to stick with only one deck, and I did for a while. My first deck was The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett. I love the mysticism that Egypt holds and using those cards was like communicating with a deeper part of my spirit. The Ancient Egyptian Tarot was with me during one of the most difficult times in my life and is part of me.
After a break from card slinging, I learned to read tarot again with the Thoth Tarot and after I spent a lot of time with those cards, I needed to find a different path for myself. My path with the Thoth Tarot ended badly, though this had nothing to do with the cards themselves, but the person who taught me to read with them. I wanted to find comfort after a difficult time and knew that I had to walk away from the Toth Tarot. It was too wrapped up in who he was. I backed away from Tarot because of my experiences with the deck and my teacher. I still felt that I needed some kind of guidance and found myself turning to Oracle cards.
I found myself drawn to The Enchanted Map Oracle by Colette Baron-Reid. They were a revelation at the time and provided me with soft comfort and much needed advice that I needed to turn my mind around and to not just focus on the positive but find a way to let go of the negativity so that I could see the path in front of me clearly. I had no idea that my path would lead me to meet Colette with my friend Christine. I consider myself lucky that I got to meet Colette, but the shine that I felt followed her dulled after meeting her and so did my love for her cards.
There were other Oracle cards that were able to guide me through what I was going through, but I was itching to find another Tarot deck. I love Oracle cards, but Tarot would always be my first home.
When a friend gave me The Wild Unknown for Christmas, it was like I had found a piece of myself that I had given away a long time ago. I was hesitant picking up another tarot deck after what had happened with the Thoth Tarot. However, after a time with so much darkness, it was like finding light in the shadows, and Kim Krans uses colour to great effect within the art of The Wild Uknown, using the shadow to show how powerful a spot of light or colour can be.
It is the deck that I always return to, no matter how many decks I own. It’s where I feel most at home. The Wild Unknown is the deck that somehow gives me breath in a world where I sometimes don’t feel like I can breathe. I have three cards tattooed on my right shoulder so that I can carry them around with me: the Ace of Wands, Strength and the Ace of Swords. Every day, they remind me what I can create, how I can overcome and what I need to cut away.
Even so, as much as The Wild Unknown holds a part of my spirit, it likes to wander and find itself in new places. I’m always drawn to find a part of myself in something new and if it has gilding on the edges, I’m gone. I have always been a sucker for shiny things. After experiencing The Wild Unknown, I was drawn into the world of Prisma Visions. The Wild Unknown Tarot helped me through a period of growth where I became completely myself and opened me up to what was possible. The world of Prima Visions Tarot was an explosion of colour that lit up the dark and showed me what my world could look like, and it was a world that I wanted to explore. I felt like with each card that I was being drawn into a world where there was finally balance between the light and the dark. I found those cards when I needed to let myself shine because I didn’t want to hide who I was anymore. Those cards showed me that it was okay.
I could go on, but we would be here for a while. When people ask me how many decks I have, I truthfully don’t know the answer. I would wager somewhere between one-hundred or two. There have been decks that have been sold to others or given away to one of my friends who were in need of a little bit of wisdom, but other than that, they have stayed.
I’ve always thought of Tarot cards like doors, they invite into a world of the artists creation. The person who has created the deck is alive within each card, each pigment, each sword, pentacle, cup or wand. The decks that call to me are often at random or ones I’ve been told about, or I spot them on my journeys in stores (both mortar and online). If I know that the store sells Tarot decks, that’s the first thing I go to look at. I almost always find something to take home.
It’s not about just buying a new deck. There must be some kind of spark or story, waiting to be unravelled and lived in. I’m a firm believer that Tarot decks are spirit keepers. I write and paint. I know that a little bit of the magic that I create lives inside each of my paintings. My books always hold characters that are parts or pieces of me, every writer does this. Our lives and imagination inspire the rest.
I think that tarot decks are like that, too. The decks always hold the spirit of their creator. They’ve had that vision, that idea, that story that had to be told with tarot cards. They are world creators, giving their idea a canvas to live out their tale, to hold the energy that they want to imbibe the deck with. Every time I open a new tarot deck that called to me, I am opening a door within myself that has either remained closed, or I didn’t know was there in the first place. I usually sit with a tarot deck, flipping through the cards and letting what I see tell me a story. Then I sit and read the guidebook, so that I can see further into the forest. The guidebook gives me the bones of the deck. It is, after all, the deck creators’ story and vision. They take the forest of cards and help to bring them to life.
My tarot collection of tarot decks has become something more. It’s like each deck is a page in the book that tells my journey, mirroring a different part of my path. It’s a large book that I have compiled, much like a tarot deck that is really a book filled with mirrors. I’ve always used tarot for personal reflection and growth, and each card is a reflection of who I am, that’s how I’ve always seen them at any rate. These decks that have been created with care by so many different deck creators and artists. They may have created a forest to lose myself in, but it’s my intuition that gives me the light to shine through.
Either way, I’ve come to realize that there will always be a new deck that catches my eye and tugs at my spirit. I know this and I’ve come to a good place with it. I know that with each year that passes, there will be many more pages to add to the book of my life.
I recently donated upwards of sixty decks to a charitable foundation. This frees up space a little and it was good to go through the decks that I have and I was able to say goodbye to them and thank them for helping me find different facets of myself. I know that even though I just got rid of a lot of decks, that there will never be a last deck. There is always something that I can learn about myself and the road that I am on in this life.
I can’t wait to see where the cards will take me next.
It had been two years. I had ended up on the streets at seventeen and I was nineteen now. In two years, it felt like I had lived a lifetime. I thought of where I was now, and I knew that it was but a facet of my life. Depending on the way I turned the dice, another piece of my path would show itself and I would find myself faced with another choice.
Two years, filled with so many different things. In that time, I had experienced true friendship and had met people that filled me with joy. I found hope, started to believe in the power of dreams. I had found the small joys, like beautiful music heard through a window and the joy of food shared amongst people you loved.
I had also experienced two years of a wonderous fear of never knowing where you are going to sleep, find food for yourself, let alone people that you could trust. At times, all I kept close to me where my alarm clock and my Tarot deck. The Ancient Egyptian Tarot was the only link I had with my brother, and I’d like to think that in some way, he was keeping me safe.
I was fucking tired. I was tired of not having my own home, somewhere that I could close a door, where I owned everything within four walls. I wanted a couch and a television. I wanted to know that I could lock the door and that had my own room to sleep in. I wanted a bed. I didn’t want to sleep on a piece of foam on the floor.
I’m not sure why this clicked with me suddenly, but I woke up a little. I wanted more. I was so tired, and I wanted a home. I looked at the state of Lisa’s apartment, the dishes half-filled with old water. I wanted to consist of more than a diet of white bread and peanut butter, cigarettes and pot. I was so fucking tired.
I wanted more.
Without Lisa knowing, I started looking for another place to live. I knew that I wanted four walls around me, some kind of privacy and a different live than this one. I wanted a key ring, an address that people could send mail to. I wanted a bed. I didn’t want to be a nomad anymore.
I also knew that I would have to do this without Lisa. She didn’t want to get off welfare, and she had been on it for much longer than I had. Part of me felt like a thief as I started to inquire about good places to go and find a job. I felt like I was betraying her in some way. That by wanted to step away from this life, for wanting more, she would see it as a betrayal.
We were sitting out front having a cigarette and there was a cup of coffee in front of each of us. I tried to find calm in the sounds of the world waking up around me. I felt like I was telling my mother that I wanted to move out on my own and I knew that this was a big thing for me. I heard a bird call and it seemed like it was urging me on. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking joy from the sun that warmed my skin.
“I’m pregnant.” Lisa said.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. The sun was hitting her face, and she was squinting into it. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She took a long puff on her cigarette. When she was letting the smoke out, she looked down at the cigarette in her hand. “Huh. I’ll probably have to change to from regular smokes to DuMaurier lights, so the babies okay.”
The words that I wanted to say died on my tongue. There was no way I could step away from her now. I thought of the fact that she had given me space in her home, her food. Lisa had offered me safety. I had to make sure that she was okay. I reflected on the stated of her apartment and thought that it was no place for a baby to grow up in.
“I need your help with this. I want you to be my birth coach.”
I let out a puff of smoke. I watched the cloud of air float away full of words that I hadn’t said. I could see the odd word held safely within the smoke. “Me? Why me?”
“You’re my best friend, Jamieson. I don’t trust many people, but I would trust you with my life. I want my child to have the same guidance that you give me.”
“What kind of guidance can I give a child?” I asked her. “I don’t provide you with guidance, not really.”
“Jamieson, you’re tough. You’ve survived so much, you’ve seen and experienced horrors, but somehow despite it all, you’re positive. Your outlook on life astonishes me.” Taking another puff off of her smoke, she pointed it at me like a wand. “I don’t know how you can be happy having to live with everything you have to carry inside you. I don’t know how you’d do it. I’d be fucking miserable. I want my child to have that kind of mentality and that kind of light.” Smoke left her mouth, and I watched as it joined the cloud of smoke that held my words. As the tongues of smoke mingled, my words could be seen more clearly and I could see the word hope contained in the smoke before it, too, disappeared.
“I’d love to be your birth coach, I’m honoured.” I told her, meaning every word.
I wondered at the life I had been about to make for myself and now I knew that it would come, that I was ready, but it would not be now. I didn’t want to slither off into the night like some kind of thief either. Now that I had made the decision to move on, I knew that it would become possible.
She had gathered a few of her Pagan friends to be different cards. A lot of people wanted to be part of the Major Arcana cards, but I was fine with just being included in the deck. When Sophie told me that I could have my choice of the Minor Arcana, I thought about what I was trying to achieve on this new path without Francis. I had gone from being part of something to being alone and, though I recognized what he had done to protect himself, I wasn’t sure how to move forward.
“You’re such a Swords,” she said, describing the suit as if it were a personality trait. “You’re a writer and a creative like me and Swords are such a creative suit.”
I shook my head. “I just find them so violent.”
“They don’t have to be, it depends on how you look at them. You wouldn’t be the Ace of Swords, maybe the Two of Swords?”
I shook my head again. “Can’t there be another card?”
Sophie looked me up and down, wondering where to place me in her deck. After some time, she spoke. “How about the Two of Pentacles? You’re just starting on your true creative journey, so how about we give you some balance as you go forward?”
She had me dress in a white’s poets’ blouse and striped pants, as if I were some kind of circus performer. I took Sophie’s hand with my left hand, and I took hold of her boyfriend James’ with my right. They had me get up on to a large tree branch and when I was balanced, they let go so that James could take the photo with Sophie directing him and making sure that he got the right shot. High up on the branch, I could see everything and everyone that was at the farm. Francis was the Magician card, and Lisa was the Star card. Jess was the Hermit and Fox was trying to be The Emperor, but Sophie wanted Fox to be The Hange Man, but Fox didn’t want to hang from a tree as James had suggested.
I had seen Francis walking around all morning and just as I stayed away from him, he stayed from me. I tried to keep my eyes from looking at him, but they were drawn to Francis and the surety that he conducted himself with. He walked around the grounds with such confidence that I was jealous of him. I didn’t feel nearly that comfortable with myself, especially with the storm that he had caused within me.
My eyes were drawn to Francis as Sophie and James helped me along the long tree branch. It felt like I was perched within the trees and I smelled the earth. I could also feel the wind moving around me. The day was hot and humid, and the wind was warm. I could smell honeysuckle and the ever-present smell of manure that was used as fertilizer from the farm next door. I could smell the leaves of trees and the mustiness that came from the shadows.
I turned away from Francis and the pain that he caused in me. I had tried to patch the holes that he had left in my heart, but I could hear the wind whistling through them. My heart sounded hollow, and I wanted to fill it with something else other than the withered heart that I had chosen to keep safe inside of a metal box. Looking out at the wide-open expanse of the fields in front of me, I let myself imagine the grass like a green sea that could take me somewhere else where I could let myself heal.
I looked away from Francis and what he represented and chose to turn away from him and toward what would come in the future instead. I knew that he had been my first love, but I knew that there would be others.
Sophie explained that I would have to balance on the tree branch on my own for a few minutes while James grabbed the shot from different angles and she made sure that I would be comfortable with that. The Pentacles would be added in digitally afterwards. I nodded and they both took their hands away. I followed Sophie’s instructions about how she wanted me to pose.
I let nodded again and put my arms out on either side of me to get my balance before I moved them in front of me. With my cerebral palsy, I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to stay on the tree branch, but right now, for this moment, I was holding my balance, and I didn’t feel like I was going to fall. I was surprised by how free I felt.
With my palms held open to the sun and my gaze on the sky and sea of grass, I felt like I was flying.
I was also surprised at the thoughts that were going through my head. Every memory of Francis was now tainted and dulled in my head because of what he had done. The fact that he had talked to everyone but me saddened me; the fact that he wouldn’t let me talk to him at all, that he wouldn’t talk to me at all, infuriated me.
I had been sad for days, but gradually, the sadness passed into anger. The water that had surrounded me slowly evaporated as the anger took over. There was a storm in my mind filled with hot shadows made from my fears come to life. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Francis and his form wavered as if I were seeing him through the film of heat from a fire.
As much as I loved him, I was so angry. I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, for who could hate their first true love? Lisa had told me it was okay to hate someone, but I took offense to that. My love for Francis still ran so deeply in me. I couldn’t stop the flow of my thoughts and emotions, even if there had been a dam put in place in front of the emotions. I had used my mind to place a barrier around my heart and the memories that I had of Francis. I made sure that the metal barrier in my mind was sharp and pointy so that it would hurt every time I tried to look at the time I had spent with him. It was easier for me to go keep my head up afterward and didn’t hurt so much to go on without Francis.
And yet, I would find myself taking out those memories and looking at them, even though I knew that I was hurting myself each time I plucked a memory from that metal box. I would try to look at the memories through a thin red haze. I knew that it was hurting me to keep looking in, but I wanted to see what I had done wrong. When did he stop loving me? I was so lost within myself that even though I kept going, I was stuck. I said this much to Lisa one night.
She’d brought home a rare treat. She pulled open her pack of cigarettes and presented me with a rolled joint. “You look like you really need to loosen up.”
“Why, I’m not uptight.”
“You are so fucking controlled, Jamieson. When was the last time you did something for fun? And you’ve been mired in the dark forest; I don’t mind telling you that. Francis isn’t everything, Jamieson. You need to stop beating yourself up and thinking of him that way. You’re everything.”
Lighting the joint, Lisa took a few puffs and passed it to me. I gladly took in a few puffs of smoke, hopeful that it would at least lessen the pain that I was in and soften the edges of the steel knives. I passed the joint back to her, and she took a few more puffs of her own. Soon, the joint half gone, we were both giggling like school children. My face hurt from laughing, having been kept in a frown for so long.
The moment made me realize how long I had been hurting myself. I shook my head and looked at Lisa, her eyes large with mirth. “He really was a dickhead.” I couldn’t bring myself to call him an asshole like Lisa did on a regular basis since he had broken up with me. Dickhead was as far as I was willing to go. I still loved him. It hurt to admit this to myself, but I knew that my love for him would take a while to fade.
Letting out a laugh, Lisa said “Well, he does like dick, so it’s an appropriate nickname! I’ll call him that next time I see him.”
I didn’t think anything of it until a few days later. My pager went off, and I saw Francis’ number flash on the screen. My whole world seemed to pause and go still. I couldn’t hear the sounds of Lisa in the next room, or the sounds of traffic from the freeway near by. I stared at the number and wondered if I wanted to talk to him or hear anything that he had to say.
I was still wondering this as I walked out the door, lit a cigarette, and found myself at the payphone across the street. I put a quarter in and dialed his number and when the phone clicked and he said hello, the sound returned to the world around me. His voice could make me believe in any kind of possibility and I wondered which one I would find here.
“Hello, Francis?” I said.
“Hello,” I was surprised to hear the coldness in his voice. “Don’t you mean dickhead?” he asked. “That’s what you’ve been calling me.”
The volume of the noise around me went even louder. Francis’ words seemed too loud and his words felt like a slap. “I mean, I could have called you worse things. You’re lucky that it was just dickhead.”
“That’s what I am to you? I loved you, Jamieson. You don’t talk about people you love like that.”
“You do when they are being mean. You hurt me, Francis.” Even saying his name hurt me and I felt the pain in my chest, the swords clanking together. “I have a right to be upset after you did what you did.”
“I set you free, Jamieson.” I heard the click of a lighter and Francis took in a breath of smoke. “You should be thanking me. I’m not a dickhead.”
Louder than any other sound was the loud beating of my heart. I could hear it in my ears and the noise of it seemed to fill my mind completely. I thought of every other man I had been with, and I didn’t use my voice. My heart wanted me to know that I had one. I closed my eyes and watched as I took hold of one of the swords that surrounded my heart. In my minds eye, I held it out towards Francis.
Letting my eyes slide open, I took in my own breath of smoke. “You’re right, Francis. You’re not a dickhead. I believe that asshole fits you a lot better. You don’t get to break my heart and then tell me how I feel. This is on you.”
I hung up the phone before he could start talking again because I realized that what he said no longer mattered. I could grieve now, finally seeing Francis for what he was. It seemed that he had given me a gift in the end, the clarity that can only come from pain.
I held on to the sword like a dowsing rod and let it lead me back home.
Spirit of the Wolf 